


You And I (We Are The Start Of Something Beautiful)

by ProudHaikyuuTrash



Series: SakuAtsu Week 2020 [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Idols, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Atsumu co-owns Onigiri Miya, Atsumu is also very terrifying, Fluff and Humor, I want to eat there, Like he actually uses his brain well, M/M, Onigiri Miya is A+, Or not, Sakusa is a little shit, Sakusa is an idol, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, but he earns a lot, but so is Atsumu, it depends, thanks to A+ manipulation, they are each other's brand of assholery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:46:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23544091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProudHaikyuuTrash/pseuds/ProudHaikyuuTrash
Summary: Written for SakuAtsu Week Day Three: Marks/MouthsAtsumu didn't need or want a soulmate, but he got one anyway—an asshole one at that. Too bad,it's just his brand of assholery and  he ended up liking said soulmate after all.Atsumu grumbles, marches up to where the boy group and his soulmate is seated. When Sakusa sees him, something akin to joy flits across his features and Atsumu really wants to break something. Preferably his head so he gets a concussion and dies so he doesn’t need to wake up to Kiyoomi being his soulmate. God, he’s already calling him Kiyoomi.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu & Miya Osamu, Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi, Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Series: SakuAtsu Week 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1691599
Comments: 6
Kudos: 513
Collections: SakuAtsu Week 2020





	You And I (We Are The Start Of Something Beautiful)

In a world run by soulmates, Atsumu was doing fantastic by himself. He had a healthy relationship with his parents, had a twin brother who was the shittiest person in the universe but he loved him anyway and a successful business with said brother that started really picking up as of late.

Life was truly fantastic, amazing really. He had no need for a soulmate and didn’t want any—especially after the nightmare than was his brother and Rintarou. Nope, he was perfectly fine living the single life and serving the country’s best onigiri to extremely satisfied customers.

He was perfectly fucking fine—and then it all went to hell.

It started something like this: One usually busy day at Onigiri Miya and then _boom,_ Shoyo, one of the recently hired worked burst the fucking door open panting as he skids to a stop and yells,

“A.C.E is in the building across us.”

The other workers stop whatever the fuck they were doing and gape. Rintarou runs out of the store-room and another of their employees—Terushima Yuuji—babbles about how he _needs_ to call his bro and let him know (fucker doesn’t even have a brother, Atsumu knows).

A.C.E—ah yes, that overrated, mediocre boy band who only became successful with their good looks (even those are average, Atsumu scoffs). Also the group Rintarou loves to death. Fun times—now he has to deal with an influx in customers _and_ a jealous brother, just _great._

He watches unimpressed as Rintarou starts jumping around like a fool, cleaning up their already fantastically clean shop and ordering everyone around to make the place as presentable as possible. He even brings out a few tables from the storeroom and even adds those special, expensive cushions they have only for team reunions and family events.

Atsumu sighs miserably, pats his brother comfortingly on the back and makes to disappear into the kitchen, but his brother grips him, eyes wide.

“Tsumu—you mark, it’s glowing.” His brother breaths, eyes glued to the swirls on Atsumu’s neck turn a vibrant green.

“Fuck—” Atsumu curses, palm moving to cover his mark, “No, not today—I’m going home, I don’t care.” He rants, striding into the storeroom to get his coat.

At least he would have. If his brother hadn’t taken a hold of his apron ribbon and gave him the world’s most unimpressed stare.

“Nope,” Osamu says, popping the ‘p’, as he tugs him back to the counter, “We are gonna a shit lot of customers than normal. We need as many people here as possible.”

Atsumu scoffs, crossing his arms in pettiness because yes, while he does want to ignore the glowing mark on his neck and his soulmate who might be near, he doesn’t want this hardly built business of his and his brother to get anything but 5 stars, and that means he has to forget about his opinion of soulmates and remain within the shop. _Just great._

Half an hour later, any and every thought of a burning soulmark and a waiting soulmate gets thrown into the deepest pits of hell as he hauls the newly printed menus into the shop and almost trips and fall on a huge ass camera. He sends his nastiest glare to the reporter parked inside his humble shop before making his way to the counter and slamming the menus on the counter.

Osamu looks exhausted and on the verge of tears, and Atsumu, if the situation had been different, would have taken the greatest pleasure in making fun of him for it, but now all he wants is to shut the shop and go home and sleep for the next decade.

He knew it’s gonna get busy but _damn,_ he didn’t expect this many people.

Osamu sighs miserably, slams his head onto the counter and Atsumu can’t even bring himself to provide consolation.

“They broke the women’s toilet.” Osamu says, voice dead, “They _broke_ the women’s toilet, how the _fuck_ is that possible?”

Atsumu gapes for a moment before asking where said ladies are seated and picking up five menus as he stomps up to them.

“May I get your order?” he says plastering the fakest smile on his face.

One of the women looks up and blushes, stuttering out a “We aren’t here to order.”

Atsumu can feel the spike in his anger with the way his hands itch to punch a wall.

“Well then,” Atsumu says, voice foregoing any pleasantries, “I have to ask you to leave.”

“W-what?” One of the other girls screech, “You can’t!”

“I absolutely can,” Atsumu bites back, “See that there?” he asks pointing at the black board he had thankfully put up as soon as news broke that shitty band being in the same area as them, “Since you can’t read, I’ll read it for you: it say, if anyone isn’t to order, they need to get out so other who _are_ here to enjoy our amazing onigiri service can enjoy their meals.”

“I-” the girl starts but Atsumu cuts her off, temper reaching its peak.

“And since you haven’t ordered anything, you can’t stay here. Not to mention that we can easily sue this group for destruction of private property seeing as one of you broke the dryer, a tap _and_ a mirror in the ladies’ bathroom.”

At that the whole group gapes, wide eyed and Atsumu grins, fox-like, “Usually we would remain negligent of such damage, we can’t apply the same here, considering how you aren’t our customer. Now then ladies, would you want to pay 15 million yen as reparation or order something?”

One of the girls reach to snatch the menu out of his hand and he sharpens his grin, “Orders need to be of at least 90,000 yen since you are such a large group and caused such huge damage to our property.”

He smiles that customer smile again, waving over Hinata to handle the group’s order before he jumps into the wilderness of wires and cameras that is the corner where all the paparazzi is clustered together, stepping in such an angle that no paparazzi can get a clean shot of where the overrated, mediocre group is seated.

One of the reporters click their tongue and starts to tell him to move when Atsumu sends one his nastier glares at her,

“As it says on the board there, you must order something to claim these seats; otherwise we will be suing each of you individually for invasion of privacy and trespassing into private property.” He smiles cruelly, “Now if I may have your orders.”

The clusterfuck of reporters grumble out their orders before Atsumu smiles and bows, telling them their order is on their way.

His darling brother-in-law bounces out of the kitchen carrying the hugest platter of onigiris Atsumu had ever seen (and he _owns_ an onigiri shop). All the waiters busy themselves serving dishes after dishes to each group and Atsumu pushes Osamu to the main door to stop any new customers entering before picking up a tray.

He grinds his teeth when he reads the table number—it’s the table where the mediocre troublemakers are seated. He takes a deep breath, plasters his fakest smile to day on his face as he makes his way over to the table.

He puts the order down with a flourish, standing straight and looking at the group. Clearly, it’s a publicity stunt. They are all clustered in a small booth to ‘eat’ onigiri and chat like the buddies they are while ignoring the chaos caused in the rest of the shop. Most of the members aren’t even talking! Well not like it’s his business anyway. As long he gets the extra profit, he’s fine.

“May I get you anything else?”

“No, it’s alright,” One of the members smile brightly—Bokuto, if Atsumu remembers right, “Thank—” he stops, eyes widening unnaturally before he elbows the member beside him.

Atsumu frowns, confused, but then his neck _burns_. He slowly turns around towards the spot in the corner of his vision that glows bright, demanding attention. He makes out a pair of wide onyx eyes before his heart clenches and despite his efforts, butterflies flutter in his stomach. He keeps his eyes open somehow, staring, a little overwhelmed despite himself. The male -who’s covering his neck in a way that’s the mirror-image of Atsumu’s- stares back with wonder written over his features.

Sakusa—Atsumu remembers from one of Rintarou’s rants—opens his mouth, closes his eyes, opens them again and lets out a breath. Atsumu takes a while to process that he had copied the raven haired and instantly his lips pinch into a frown.

“You are Miya Atsumu,” Sakusa breaths after few moments of intense staring, during which Atsumu felt the world fade away from around them, focusing only on Sakusa. At the words earns a drawn out blink from Atsumu, after which Atsumu’s brows shoot to his forehead.

“Ye—” Atsumu starts, wondering how his soulmate knows him.

“You were the best setter in High school volleyball—the setter from Inarizaki.” Sakusa gapes and Atsumu feels smug at the way his soulmate addresses him. His lips start to curve up into a smirk when Sakusa drops, “God you were so annoying.”

Atsumu squeaks, anger flaring, ” _Excuse me?_ ”

“What?” Sakusa that bastard smirks, “I played against you for three years, and I think I have an idea about how you are on court.”

Atsumu gapes, clicks his mouth shut, closes his eyes and prays he has enough self control to not become one with the ground. His brain filters through the many players he played against in high school, “You are _Sakusa Kiyoomi?_ ”

Sakusa looks as bored as ever, “I didn’t know you had such shitty memory.”

“Excuse _you,_ I thought you were playing for Black Jackals,” Atsumu all but wails, “What the _hell_ are you even doing in an idol group?”

“Tsumu—” Rintarou calls but Atsumu can’t do anything but gape at his asshole of a soulmate. _What the actual fuck?_ Sakusa Kiyoomi is his soulmate? Since when? How the fuck?

“How would I know?” Sakusa shrugs, one perfectly trimmed brow arching up and _shit,_ that’s kinda hot. The effect of that hotness is gone as he opens his mouth, “I didn’t ask to share that mark with you.”

“Omi—” Atsumu growls, the familiar 'insulting nickname' he used to snarl across the net making its comeback, and then takes a deep breath—there are paparazzi and crazy teenage girls here who will make his life hell if he so much as makes a dig at their _favourite_ idol. “Honestly, fuck this—I’m out.”

He hears Bokuto pat Sakusa’s back consolingly as he storms inside the store room. This day just became the worst. Fuck, he didn’t even ask for a soulmate, and he gets stuck with the biggest asshole he has ever met. _Great._

Osamu kicks him out of the storeroom with a withering glare that, normally, Atsumu should be immune to, but right now his head in jumbled and his heart feels light and _god,_ he hates this.

Atsumu grumbles, marches up to where the boy group and his _soulmate_ is seated. How did he not recognize Sakusa when Rintarou shoves his A.C.E posters in Atsumu's face? Honestly, this is disgraceful--he's kind of ashamed.

When Sakusa sees him, something akin to joy flits across his features and Atsumu _really_ wants to break something. Preferably his head so he gets a concussion and dies so he doesn’t need to wake up to Kiyoomi being his soulmate. _God, he’s already calling him Kiyoomi._

His soulmate, asshole extraordinaire, fucking superb volleyball monster who doesn’t play volleyball anymore but acts all _kawaii_ for teenage girls to fawn over, smirks, “Oh, you are back.”

His band mates hide their smiles by digging into the remaining onigiris though Atsumu hears Bokuto snort to himself.

“ _Aww,_ were you waiting for me?” Atsumu smiles, sweetly though there’s some venom hidden somewhere.

Sakusa looks at a loss of words at that and Atsumu grins his fox-like grin, “Anyway, there’s the bill. Please recommend our onigiris to your family and friends if you have liked it here!”

When the group finally gets up to leave, Atsumu is perched by the counter. Sakusa makes deliberate eye-contact with him and slides the bill folder on the counter and smirks, something like a challenge gleaming in the dark eyes. Atsumu wants to punch him. With his mouth. On his mouth. You know—kiss— _oh no Atsumu just did not think that._

Atsumu glares at him, snatching the folder and sticking his tongue out in pettiness. Sakusa only raises his brows in amusement. _Stupid bastard,_ Atsumu thinks, annoyance flaring. The small voice in the back of his head whistles out a _damning hot too._

“I don’t actually mind you being your soulmate,” Sakusa whispers conspiratorial, “It’s better than the other options anyway.”

Atsumu, damn his shitty brain and stupid heart and stupid mark, flushes red, glare weakened by the red in his cheeks. Sakusa looks bored again, though there is a hint of a smirk on his face when he slips on his famous mask. “See you later.” He says, before walking out of the door and to his band mates.

Atsumu, despite himself, finds himself smiling at the promise, veins thrumming with joy. Despite his earlier act, he feels his heart sing at finally meeting his soulmate and he feels happiness thrum inside him as his soul shout _Kiyoomi, Kiyoomi, Kiyoomi._ He remembers how his name sounded on Sakusa’s lips and his soul promises an eternity of the fuzzy feeling that rose; the warmth that exploded the way Kiyoomi formed his name.

He opens the check book and, as he had guessed, there’s Kiyoomi’s number written in his neat handwriting. There’s also a scribbled warning to keep his number confidential but Atsumu pays it no heed.

Instead he takes out his phone and types the number in. The call connects and Atsumu smiles,

“Hey soulmate.”

It’s the start of something beautiful, something promising—something everlasting as Kiyoomi’s warm voice filters through,

“Hi Atsumu.”

**Author's Note:**

> I think out of all the fics of SakuAtsu this one is my favourite because what's better than Atsumu being a tired restaurant owner while? And soulmates? Exactly, Nothing. Anyway stan actual kpop group ACE who are amazing, phenomenal, awesome, and not mediocre.


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